Hell to Get Along With
by EE's Skysong
Summary: The people you end up loving the most are the ones you start out hating. Ch. 1: She needed someone to tell her she had made the right choice. She had told herself it a million times, but she wouldn't believe it until she heard it from his lips. Longerbee
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: "I came here to inquire about your china pattern. I intend to buy you and your new husband a spoon."

(An: The title for this is gacked from "Long Walk to Forever" by Kurt Vonnegut. It was the intended title for the piece. If you can find it, I suggest you read it- it's fluffy and sweet but never falls into sap. Anyway, this was one of the challenges on the Longerbee LJ. Me being me, I couldn't have all of these drabbles just be drabbles. The story's a bit incoherent because there are only fifty instead of one hundred, but it's understandable.)

15. First:

It was first love, as pure and clear as snowmelt on a mountaintop. Not to say that it was any less complicated or confusing than relationships later in life, when things like age and the past and old flames can get in the way, it was just more straightforward. There were no past relationships to drag them down; neither of them had been rejected before. And once they figured it all out, they wondered why on earth they had waited so long to do something. Shyness wasn't an answer, not for something so strong.

"Stupidity?" she suggested, and he laughed.

12. Fast:

She could run faster than all the other boys. Despite Jet's misgivings about letting her into the group (girls had cooties, after all), there was that undeniable fact. They had no messenger hawk, and her bare feet could carry her almost as quickly as one of those birds on the hard-packed forest floor.

That fleetness meant she was the first one at his side when he was hurt, the first one to show a kind of self-conscious concern, and that he was the first one to fully accept her presence in the group (if not the first to like her).

13. Slow:

It was mostly because her speed annoyed him. She never slowed down, rarely paused to look around, and it was even rarer when she stopped to think about what she was doing. That was about as different from him as you got. And she didn't like him either; it was the turtle and the rabbit glaring at each other from opposite sides of the finish line again.

It was only when he realized that he wanted to be the person to make her slow down that he admitted he maybe sorta thought she wasn't _too_ annoying. But still too fast.

29. Guilt:

Maybe he had judged her too quickly (and wouldn't _that_ be ironic, when he was accusing her of being too fast). She got along with all of the other Freedom Fighters well (except Sneers, but Sneers didn't get along with anybody). She was the only one the Duke would talk to besides Pipsqueak when he first joined, and she had a talent for dealing with young ones in general. And the real rub was that she was _nice_. Argumentative and easily angered, but nice nonetheless.

Which meant that he only _wanted_ to dislike her since it would be easier. Damn!

30. Repentance:

So, in his own way, he made up for it. He dissuaded anyone who would curiously follow her to bathe (usually with a sharp look, sometimes an arrow), and he managed to get Sneers to quit tormenting her so much (since Sneers was an asshole, it was quite satisfying).

He didn't tell her about his efforts, of course. Now that he wasn't casting her in a bad light, he was starting to like her, and, well… she was a _girl_. He had no idea how to treat her. So he just did his best… without actually approaching her, of course.

20. Burn:

Jet loved teasing Longshot. Not much got to the archer, so when Jet found something that worked, he milked it. And Smellerbee worked. Oh, did she work. Just after she joined the team, Jet brought her up and noted Longshot's immediate reaction: a scowl. "What, don't you like her?" Longshot frowned, and a sly grin crept onto Jet's face. "Or maybe you do, and that's the problem." Longshot looked outraged, and that was proof positive. He cackled and never failed to use her as leverage after that. Even though Longshot kept shooting him _Et tu, Brute?_ looks, "It's too funny."

37. Joke:

At least Jet never tried to tease him when Smellerbee was around. He knew not to push it _that_ much… and he also knew that Longshot wouldn't hesitate to pin him to a tree just because he was the boss.

He never outright teased Longshot, no… but he usually snickered when Smellerbee walked by (she'd make an obscene gesture at him but keep walking). The only reasons Longshot didn't outright murder Jet were A) Jet was a good leader, B) there was no good place for body-hiding, and C) Smellerbee didn't seem to know why Jet kept laughing at her.

40. Freedom:

Smellerbee never really understood the meaning of the word, even though she claimed to fight for it. The Fire Nation had really only glided in and out of her so-called life before the Freedom Fighters.

But it was nice, she supposed, to eat without having to worry about dirt or rotten bits or running from whoever you stole from, to have your own room, a place that belonged to just you, to do whatever you wanted with your spare time instead of having to worry if anyone had taken your stuff while you were away from the rathole called home.

39. Battle:

They fought a lot. Some of that was actually fighting together- they made a good team, after all- but quite a bit was arguments. But could you really call them arguments when only Smellerbee spoke?

All she knew was that it only served to anger her further when Longshot never replied, just shook his head and tried to walk away.

"Talk to me, dammit!" she snapped, grabbing his shirt. Longshot had only looked at her cooly from beneath the brim of his hat- _What makes you so special?_

Smellerbee shut up and backed off, since she'd often wondered that herself.

41. Animal:

She fought more like a cornered animal than a girl. Her movements were swift and angry- a wildcat protecting her turf. She had lived alone on the streets before the Fire Nation destroyed her town, so she didn't really have a personal beef with them until they tried to take away the only home where she'd been really happy.

At least, that was what Longshot figured from observing her discreetly… or, at least, he thought it was discreetly.

Smellerbee saw him, though, and wondered why he kept staring at her if he disliked her so much. He was so _weird…_

17. Hate:

Jet knew all about hate, so it would be best to ask him about Longshot. She was too young to remember her parents, and they hadn't been killed by the Fire Nation anyway; they died of plague. She was a Freedom Fighter only because of Jet.

But amazingly, he looked at her, utterly confused. "Hate you? You bug him, yeah, but that's only because he's being stubborn."

Now _she_ was confused. "But-"

Jet wasn't listening; his face turned contemplative. "In fact, I could have sworn he had a crush on you."

She punched his arm; that was just crazy talk!

21. Hat:

He was so touchy about that coolie hat. Like it was valuable, instead of an old straw one that was about to fall apart. When she asked Jet about it, he rubbed his neck, frowning. "I guess you wouldn't understand… You don't have anything from before."

"Before what?"

Jet glanced at her, and she understood. She supposed she'd have to be nicer to him now; she'd gathered bits and pieces of Longshot's background from the other Freedom Fighters, and while she didn't know the whole story, she knew it was bad. It had left him without a voice, hadn't it?

22. Armor

Smellerbee, at least, was obvious; she wore her armor on the outside. His was on the inside, and the chinks were hard to find. If there were any, that was. Smellerbee was doing her best to be nicer to him, but she wasn't good at it. She didn't know how to please him, or how to speak to him, or even just how to soften those eyes that were so often a silent accusation. It was incredibly frustrating, and it made her wonder why she was even trying.

Then she finally got him to smile, and all her doubts ceased.

23. Wet

That was the worst part about guard duty- the rain. You couldn't stay under an awning if you wanted to do your job right, so, invariably, you would get soaked. Not fun. Needless to say, Longshot hated guard duty, even though his hat kept the worst of the rain off. It just seemed like he always got the nights when a storm was coming.

Smellerbee hated getting wet almost as much as he did, so he was surprised when she came out onto the platform holding an umbrella. "Nice day," she commented dryly, moving closer so they could share it.

36. Dance:

Longshot looked at her dryly as if to say, _What's your angle?_

She knew she had to be careful about him, so she just shrugged. "I was bored. You're one of the only sane people around here."

His lips twitched at that, but he refused to humor her with a full smile. Instead he sighed and looked out under the umbrella. The rain had begun to peter out.

Smellerbee bit back a frustrated sigh of her own. She knew she couldn't push it, though; Longshot would spook otherwise. How was she ever to befriend him if the weather kept interfering?

26. Compromise:

A truce was in order. So she waited, trying to find a good time to approach him. There wasn't any, so she surprised him. He was out on guard duty again, staring off into the distance. She slipped off the roof and beside him, fancying she made barely a sound.

But it was enough to alert him, and he whirled, an arrow nocked in a blink. Then his arms were around her and he was whispering, "I could have put an arrow through your silly head!" Fierce from fright only. Much like her.

And she realized no compromise was needed.

28. Ice:

Smellerbee had never seen the puddles freeze before. Her old village was balmy and warm, and the temperature rarely dropped to freezing. But winters in the Freedom Fighters' part of the forest were harsh, and the canopy provided little shelter.

The wind was howling, the snow was thick, and it was almost impossible to see, but she still made her way to Longshot's hut and crawled into bed beside him. She was too cold to be shy or think about it, and he welcomed her warmth gladly. Funny how a rare ice storm was the beginning of a rarer friendship.

14. Pain:

Pain was no stranger to the Freedom Fighters. It loved to greet the new members, and it loved the seniors even more. It slept with them, after all, and laughed when they woke screaming in the night. Sometimes it even followed them around during the day, riding on their back like a demon hogmonkey.

Smellerbee didn't like Longshot- not yet, anyway, he was still too distant and his eyes could be like stone- but he knew the tricks for dealing with pain. Especially how someone sleeping beside you could make the dark bearable. And his silence didn't make false promises.

16. Breath:

Smellerbee was sleeping peacefully, and oh, how he envied her. All _he_ could think about was her breath on his cheek and her heartbeat fluttering like a nervous bird against his shoulder and her skinny arms around his neck. It was annoying, being older: you felt this sort of stuff about someone who wouldn't have to suffer through anything of the sort for another year or two (she had never struck him as an early bloomer when it came to emotions).

And the worst part was he wouldn't change a thing. Except her shirt, maybe. It itched him something fierce.

34. Flowers:

The main problem with picking flowers for Smellerbee was that she was allergic to damn near everything. He never confessed to leaving the plants scattered around her room, although he figured she knew; he just liked doing it, that was all. He knew she liked them, and anyway, it made him feel like he was actually doing something about his crush instead of just bemoaning it to himself. After all, wasn't a gentleman supposed to pursue the object of his ardor with flowers?

Except that just about everything that grew in the forest made her sneeze! It was insanely frustrating.

18. Love (refer to "Burn"):

Six-odd years later. That silly Water Tribe girl. Finally, a chance to get his own back!

But Jet just replied, "Hey, at least I can tell 'Pretty girl' from head-over-heels-" The fierce look on Longshot's face silenced him before he could utter the dreaded _l_ word. Jet shrugged and clapped the archer on the shoulder. "Hey, denial isn't healthy."

Longshot glowered at him. It wasn't love. Couldn't be. It was just some dumb crush he couldn't shake. It was crazy talk!

Jet laughed and walked away. When Katara came looking for him, Longshot facepalmed and pointed. Crazy… but maybe true.

27. Fire:

He wasn't afraid of her; he was afraid of getting burned. When she touched him, heat would bloom from the spot, and he would pull away. He liked that warmth, but it scared him, too. He tried to call it a crush, but that heat said otherwise. That heat had other things in mind. Things he barely knew about, things she, at thirteen, almost certainly hadn't even begun to think of. Probably the scariest thing, though, was that he liked it. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't deny that, and eventually, he wouldn't be able to deny the fire, either.

9. Stumble:

Longshot had never had a problem navigating the trees. That smooth jump from tree to ground had never been an issue for him; most new Freedom Fighters slithered down the trunk rather than risk a twisted ankle, but Longshot had always been able to.

So, Smellerbee thought, he could be forgiven for swearing at her like that when she passed and blaming her for his sprained ankle. Even though she hadn't the faintest why he was blaming _her_ when he was the one who had stumbled at the sight of her without her armor. He could be so _weird_ sometimes…

25. Sick:

Smellerbee realized Jet was sick after the town was destroyed. When Longshot got her down from the trees, he dragged her to the village with a heartsick expression. He gestured at it, and for once, even the thickest person wouldn't have needed an explanation of his mind.

They left to find Jet a few hours later, and he spoke so _blithely _about it. Smellerbee had heard Fire Nation soldiers talk about the Fire Lord, and she realized they sounded a lot like him. Now Smellerbee was the one who was heartsick, but she still whispered, "Things need to change, Jet."

10. Risqué:

Seeing either of her companions naked had never been such of a much when they were living in the treetops. It was annoying when they caught her bathing, but that was only because she got so little privacy instead of offended modesty.

Catching Jet unclothed was… interesting, and she would always watch with a smirk that was probably similar to his when he saw a pretty girl. But seeing Longshot the same… that did something to her. Even remembering all the times they'd swum in the river together didn't still her heart or cool the flush high in her cheeks.

(And there is the first chapter. The second will be up tomorrow. Review!)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: "I can feel your feet Touching mine If you can't dance There's someone else in line!"

(An: While the last chapter focuses on their lives as Freedom Fighters, this is about their lives in Ba Sing Se. It brushes over a lot of stuff I would have loved to go into more detail about, but such is life.)

19. Threesome:

The last time they were at peace with each other was on the ferry, a tangle of arms and legs for company as much as warmth. Smellerbee was in the middle because she didn't move. Jet was restless, but Longshot was usually pretty stable; a stealthy arm around her and he was happy for the rest of the night. At least she didn't wake up with his feet in her face, as often happened with Jet.

They had slept this way as children, and in many ways, they were children still, and this was their last chance to show it.

6. Food:

They never had enough of it to satisfy twenty-odd hungry teenagers, a fact Jet often lamented. Fighting for freedom didn't pay well. The Fire Nation, although a lucrative source of food, didn't pass through often, and the villages around their forest were either too poor or too well-guarded to steal from.

The fare on the ferry was utterly disgusting, but at least it was edible. Still, neither of them complained when they raided the captain's stores.

And they looked back almost with longing when they finally got to the city. Steady but terrible food was still better than no food.

38. Betrayal:

Jet thought they were betraying him- him _and_ the families they'd left behind. When they left him, she whispered, "It's not true, is it?"

Longshot hugged her but said nothing, as usual. Smellerbee let herself be hugged- hugged back, even; he needed reassurance as much as she did- but it didn't really help. Most of the time it was nice that Longshot didn't talk- no pressure. But she needed someone to _tell_ her she had made the right choice. She had told herself it a million times, but she wouldn't really believe it until she heard it from his lips.

48. Promise:

He seemed to know this, and he pulled her closer, his breath ruffling her hair. "Jet's the wrong one here."

She nodded but whispered, "We left him, though."

"We'll keep an eye on him. He'll get his stupid self killed if we don't."

Smellerbee wished she could laugh at that, but it was just too true. Jet had always claimed they had his protection, but he was the one who couldn't keep his head down. Eventually he'd get it cut off. "We won't leave each other, though, right?"

His voice was a soft rumble in her ear. "Never. I promise."

1. Speak:

Whenever someone asked why he didn't talk, she always had to fight to stifle an eye roll or a derisive snort. He was as chatty as the Duke, in his own way. You just had to shut up for a while. He spoke through miming when he was desperate, but mostly, his eyes were his voice. She never found him hard to understand, and she almost always knew what he meant. If she was in a good mood, she would even interpret him.

But she spooked when she started seeing a message for her and only her in his eyes.

2. Touch:

Problem was, though, that message was in his touch, too. Hands that once only steadied now sought to feel: her hair, her cheek, her lips. Arms that once only comforted now sought an answer, to hold her and have her hold him back. Eyes that once only told her what he was thinking could now make her trip over nothing, blush, or feel warm on the coldest day. It just wasn't normal.

And there was no Jet to keep a safe distance between them anymore… perhaps she had only started noticing this now because of it. Spirits, she hoped not.

47. Wind:

But Smellerbee was nothing if not practical. She had no use for panic and its thought-smothering flutters. So, eventually, she forced herself to calm down around him. It was _Longshot_, for crying out loud. Longshot, the silly boy she'd been friends with since forever, Longshot, who stuck flowers in her bedroom and then feigned innocence when she asked about it, Longshot, who blushed if she so much sneezed in his direction.

She shook her head and told herself she shouldn't have been so surprised. The winds of change just hadn't finished tugging at her hair and toying with her yet.

11. Bed:

There was only one bed in the apartment they found which, again, would not have been a big deal before. But Jet wasn't there anymore to act as buffer; it was not the least drafty corner of floor they were sleeping on, it was a bed. Beds had implications.

She didn't know why she was thinking about it when she was the one who had gotten exasperated and ordered Longshot beside her, blaming the cold for want of his presence.

Except with his face pressed into her neck and his arms around her, it seemed a very big deal indeed.

32. Careful:

She always acted so tough when she was awake, but Longshot figured this was the only time he saw the truth of her, when she was asleep. Curled on his bed with her eyes closed tight against the world and her armor- all of it, not just the stuff she wore- removed and her lips curled in the slightest of smiles… And she reached for him when he moved away and expressed her distaste in annoyed sleep-mutterings.

Longshot smiled at her, but he didn't oblige. Never mind how hard his heart was beating; she would have reached for Jet, too.

44. Blanket:

Smellerbee, on waking, found the bed depressingly cold. The blanket was warm, yes, but there was just something about having someone else beside her… about having _Longshot_ beside her. He was a habitually early riser, though. Ordinarily, so was she, but, having nothing pressing to do, she didn't mind extra sleep.

The fun was spoiled if you had someone else to make you feel guilty about wasting time, though. Longshot didn't, of course; he glanced up from his seat on the floor, nodded, and went back to cleaning his bow. Was it just tiredness, or was his nod rather distant?

24. Trees:

Smellerbee had plenty of reasons to hate Ba Sing Se. There were no trees, for one thing. She liked their old home. High up, isolated, and enough green life to make you feel like singing. Here, there were gardens, but they were for the rich, mostly in the middle ring to entice customers. A few places sold plants, but they didn't have the money for that, and unless they had coin on hand, shopkeepers tended to shoo scruffy-looking teenagers away.

The little bonsai must have cost him the entirety of what he had squirreled away, but Smellerbee loved it anyway.

31. Punishment:

Smellerbee would later decide that Jet must have been even stupider in a previous life to deserve such a death. Certainly he hadn't done enough bad in this life to deserve it- a lot, yes, but as sensitive, gentle fingers found broken ribs- four, but not in pairs- internal bleeding- which not even the best healer could do a thing for- and bruises beyond number, she thought that no one deserved to die like this- flat on the ground, unable to walk, barely able to speak, and fighting for every breath- and especially not Jet. He was a hero, dammit!

50. Jet:

She said nothing for a long, long time after they buried their leader. Finally, "We need to get out of here." She gestured vaguely at the city in the distance. "Far, far, _far_ away."

Longshot nodded. "It's a bad place."

She nodded, wiping fiercely at eyes that threatened to start streaming again. "It must be. It made him bad."

They left on foot, not wanting to wait for another means. It hurt their hearts to leave Jet so close to the place that had destroyed him, but there was nothing else they could do. Destiny loved to tie their hands.

4. Hard:

Going on without Jet was hard, harder than anything she'd ever done. She felt foolish because she simply could not conquer her grief: she'd think it had passed, and then something would remind her of him and she'd be off again.

He bore her tears with the same endless patience he had for everything else. She had been vaguely aware of how lucky she was to have him before, but nothing drove it home as much as those steady arms around her, those whispered promises in her ear: living without Jet was hard, but without him, it would be unbearable.

8. Kiss:

Their first kiss was not good, not at all. She was crazy with grief, and he was just the same, so he calmed them both the only way he knew how. He just grabbed her shoulders and smashed his lips against hers, and she instantly shut up. "Good," he muttered. "If you said his name more time…" He trailed off, stepping back.

For a moment, she wondered how he could even think of kissing. Jet was dead! And then she remembered how one of the girls on the ferry had smiled at him, and she understood it, a little bit.

35. Suspicion:

Smellerbee frowned at him. She didn't notice she was touching her lips; her brown eyes were icy and distant. For a moment, he thought she was angry, and then he realized she was distrustful. She doubted his motives. He almost felt like laughing. Even moreso when she asked, "You're jealous? Of _Jet_?"

"Always have been," he murmured, grabbing her hands before she could back up. "You notice him."

"It's impossible not to."

Longshot shrugged, unwilling to argue.

"I didn't like him, if that's what you're worried about."

He glared: _spare me._

"I didn't! And to think, I didn't trust _you_!"

42. Jewel:

Longshot sighed and backed away, letting go of her. "I'm sorry." For what, he didn't specify.

Smellerbee shook her head, disgusted. "You should be. Jet's _dead_, Longshot. Don't you get that?"

He frowned, jealousy lurking on the edges of his expression. But he nodded. "I do." When she seemed unbelieving, he repeated it. "I _do._" Then he grabbed her again, by the shoulders this time. "You're just more important to me than he ever was." And then he kissed her. _Again._

Smellerbee pulled back. "You're hell to get along with!" she cried.

Longshot shrugged. "So stop me." But she couldn't.

45. Night:

The night was cold and unwelcoming, and, anyway, she didn't really mind it. It was frigid, and they could see their breath, but she didn't really notice the temperature when they were making heat of their own and were sharing their gasps.

After a few moments that felt like a short (much too short) eternity, he stepped back. "It's not a good idea."

"Longshot, I'd never thought I'd say this… but please, shut up."

He rolled his eyes and took her in his arms again.

"That's better. Since when have we ever held with sense, anyway?"

_That_ made him laugh.

5. Sweet:

She put up with the umbrella held over her, she tolerated the flower in her hair, she endured the hand-holding. He seemed to enjoy it, although his eternal sweetness, like his silence and his patience, caught on the thorns in her soul and bothered her. She wasn't used to being treated like something precious.

She knew that if she expressed her annoyance, he would listen, shrug, and go on as he had. Even if she had the smoothest tongue in the world, she wouldn't have been able to change his ways.

But that wasn't a bad thing, not at all.

46. Morning:

They held off for a long while; shyness, confusion, and grief stayed them before they got much beyond kissing. Curiousity tempted them to go further, but something always interrupted before they could- alleyways in any city are never as undisturbed as most like to think. But as they got farther and farther from Ba Sing Se, the towns thinned out, and they were on their own more and more.

Millions of parents who had forced chaperones on their children were justified for once.

Except there was no one to notice or judge or care, and that was fine with them.

43. Sex:

Neither of them knew anything about it. Jet had haltingly attempted to explain the boy's side of it to Smellerbee once, but Sneers kept interrupting, and eventually she'd just tuned both of them out, acting attentive until they left her alone.

One thing, though, kept occuring to her as she and Longshot did their best to figure things out- "It's harder for a girl," Jet had mumbled, embarrassed but determined. And it _was_. If she had no idea what she was doing, that went double for Longshot, although _something_ usually made the sweaty action worth the trouble. He tried, anyway.

3. Soft:

She was fascinated by his smooth palms. His fingers were callused, and she enjoyed tracing them because she knew why they were there. Thick skin between his index and middle finger: his favorite, the short bow. Roughness to his thumb and pointer: the long bow, which he hated even though he was good with it. And tiny scars all over his fingers: hand-to-hand training with her and Jet. But his palms were soft and unmarked, oddly enough.

When she asked, he laughed and kissed the corner of her mouth, murmuring, "I'm vain of them, since you like them so much."

7. Body:

He knew her body much better than she did. He had always known where to touch her to make her drop her tough act and squeal for him to quit tickling her, which she enjoyed despite all of her protests.

Later, he knew where to touch her to make her shiver, and she liked that even more, although whenever he tried it in public she would smack his hands away and hiss, "Not here. Later."

And she would reward him for waiting; while she often felt awkward in her skin, she knew his body like the back of her hand.

33. Elegance:

_Hers_

Eyes- a dark brown, the color of the trees she so loved. Skin- deeply tanned everywhere left exposed, but her stomach and legs were as pale as china. Hair- short, ratty, and often described as the color of mud. But also the perfect length to tug your fingers through.

_His_

Arms- not as hard with muscle as Jet's, but still strong enough to hold her. Face- dark, contemplative, moody. She loved being able to make him smile. Lips- thin, pale, usually clamped tight. They only softened to let pass the occasional words, and, of course, to allow her own.

49. Sensual:

Cold hands pressed to her warm neck. Smellerbee yelped and shoved Longshot off. "Do you dip them in ice?"

Longshot shrugged, putting his arms around her and resting his (freezing!) hands on her stomach. He pressed his lips where his hands had been. "Better?"

Smellerbee glared at him. "I'm serious. You have terrible circulation. Did you grow up with the Water Tribe or something?"

He rolled his eyes, tracing circles on her abdomen. She yelped again when he brushed a sensitive spot just beneath her breasts. "Ticklish?"

"Go _die._ Jackass."

"And you said _I_ was hell to get along with."

(That's that. I like that this one came out as more storylike than the last drabble bit I did. Review!)


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